


The Road To Sonora

by princesskay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Drinking to Cope, ItsStillBeautiful, M/M, Making Out, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7741750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While driving cross-country into Mexico, Will and Hannibal work out the problems that linger between them after the cliff fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> [](http://s1353.photobucket.com/user/glitterkitty091/media/RTS%20banner_zpstovhcc87.jpg.html)  
>    
> 

Sunlight baked through the windshield, illuminating the water stains and specks of dust dappling the glass. The air conditioning purred through the dash, blasting chilled air across Will's flushed cheeks and drying his sweat-damp shirt to his chest. Music trickled lazy from the speakers, faint static edging around the notes of the warbling country song. It was little distraction from the languid actions of the small, dusty gas station plopped abruptly at the edge of the road that snaked through this desolate cross-section of Texas.

Will squinted out the window of the car, watching the handful of patrons servicing the pumps and exiting the gas station with cartons of beer and cigarettes in hand. A brown paper sack shielding a bottle of whiskey dangled from Will's own hand.

He took a swig, and sank lower in the passenger seat of the car. His head ached in shallow waves, like the ocean battering at the base of his skull. The whiskey wasn't helping, but it tasted like relief in a bottle.

For perhaps the hundredth time since getting into his car, he checked the mirrors, and swung a gaze to the driver's seat. At the moment it was empty, but Hannibal's presence lingered against the faded, cracked leather. Will could see the ghost imprint of his fingers around the wheel.

Will jarred from his thoughts when the front door of the gas station swung open again.

Hannibal strode across the parking lot with a plastic bag clutched in one hand. He was wearing a gray button-down shirt and slacks. Casual for him, too formal for the hot, sandy clutches of the desert in mid-July.

He looked pristine despite the heat. Hair neatly combed back. Collar stiff and clean about his throat. Not a glimpse of sweat stains in the armpits of his designer shirt.

Will threw back a mouthful of whiskey, wincing at the burn of the alcohol and his own measured distaste.

Hannibal stepped inside the car, allowing a blast of heat into the air conditioned space. He pulled the door shut behind him, and handed the bag off to Will.

Will sorted through the bags of chips, pre-packaged sandwiches, a bottle of Coca-Cola, and two bottles of water.

“I can't believe you're willing to eat this stuff.” Will remarked.

“I'm not.” Hannibal said, “It's for you. You should have something to eat besides whiskey.”

Will held the bottle aloft, and shrugged. “It's going down just fine.”

“Eat the sandwich.”

Will regarded Hannibal's authoritative expression with mild amusement before taking the plastic-wrapped sandwich out of the bag. He ripped the packaging open, and took a bite without checking the ingredients. He tasted cheap lunchmeat and too much mayonnaise.

Hannibal put his seatbelt on, and shifted the car into drive. The vehicle rolled out of the gas station parking lot and onto the lonely strip of road that led through the desert. The gas station receded in the rear view mirror, morphing to a tiny dot on the horizon, and finally to nothing at all.

They were alone again, on the open road.

Will finished off the sandwich, and leaned back in his seat to watch the landscape sail past them.

In every direction, flat, tawny land, dotted by green sprouts of hardy, desert plants stretched toward the horizon, occasionally interrupted by gray hills and spurts of jagged rocks. The sky was crisp blue and spotted by puffy, white clouds. Serene.

Perhaps he could have enjoyed it if they hadn't been driving toward an uncertain future.

“You've been quiet since we started driving.” Hannibal said.

Will let his head loll against the seat to look at him.

“What's there to say?”

“You agreed to go with me.” Hannibal said, “I imagine there's quite a bit that hasn't been said.”

Will took a stiff drink of his whiskey.

“Some people take roadtrips as a vacation.” He said, “Me … I hate them.”

“I didn't ask you to find it appealing.” Hannibal said, “But it is a necessity.”

“Do you find it appealing?”

“What is there to find appealing about sitting behind the wheel for hours with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company?”

“You mean to say I should talk with you to ease the passage of time.”

“It couldn't hurt.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything you'd like.”

Will glanced at Hannibal with his jaw clenched against annoyance. Sometimes he forgot that they'd once been patient and psychiatrist, and all of Will's feigning and emotional maneuvering were for naught.

“Or nothing at all.” Hannibal allowed. “I can't very well force you to talk to me.”

“Fine.” Will said. “If you're going to complain about it.”

“I'm not complaining.”

“Not directly.”

Hannibal cast him a fond smile. “Well?”

“I hate roadtrips because of my father.” Will said, “We didn't have enough money for plane tickets, so every time we up and moved, it was driving cross-country to get there. We would spend hours – days even – driving from one side of the US to other. At first, it was fun, in the adventurous type of way. After the first few times, I started to realize just how boring it was, and just how much I didn't want to get to wherever it was we were going.”

“There was no father-son bonding during those trips?”

“He was a man of few words, my dad.” Will said, “We would listen to music, or the silence. I hated it.”

“Then why do you punish me with your silence now?”

“I suppose I became more like my dad than I hoped to.”

“Was he kind?”

“Kind.” Will murmured, considering the word in relation to his father. “He wasn't thoughtful, if that's what you mean. There was no kind of physical intimacy between us. But he taught me everything I know about mechanics, boats, and fishing. I have that to thank him for.”

“Parents shape us more than anyone else can.” Hannibal said, “They are the blueprint, and foundation for our beliefs and values. Though we may stray from that specific mold, part of our hearts and minds will always be rooted in what they taught us.”

“My father didn't teach me to run away from my responsibilities with the man who tried to kill me.”

Hannibal's mouth curved in a pleased smile.

“I wasn't trying to be funny.” Will said.

“I'm not laughing.” Hannibal said, “Though we could remark for days on the irony of our present situation.”

“It's painfully ironic, don't you think?”

“I'm actually rather pleased, not pained.”

“Pleased you won. Pleased I took us down and you still came up victorious.”

“I'd prefer to think that we are both victors.”

Will sipped on his whiskey in lieu of crafting a response. For a long minute, they didn't speak again, and the hum of the tires over pavement took the place of their conversation.

“Why did you come with me, then?” Hannibal asked, at length.

Will cast him an inquisitive expression.

“If you consider yourself not victorious, if your father did not teach you to run away with the man who tried to kill you … If you despise roadtrips – why did you come with me?”

Will considered the question for a long moment.

“That's kind of ironic as well.” He said, “If I had stayed in Baltimore, if I had stayed behind and let you go … By staying in place, I would have been running away. Running away with you … it's not running anymore. It's acceptance.”

“Grudging acceptance?”

Will drank down a burning swallow of whiskey, and dragged the back of his hand over his mouth.

“No.” He sighed. “Just acceptance.”

 

~

 

The motel was situated just off the I-10, on the edge of Soccoro, Texas. A NO VACANY sign flickered green neon into the still, dark evening.

The man behind the desk barely looked up as they checked in, and acquired their keys. Hannibal seemed amused by the clerk's apparent nonchalance that afforded him a glance at known fugitives with a haze of ignorant bliss over his eyes.

Their rooms were right next to each other on the second floor. A balcony wrapped around the entirety of the building, vacant except for the littering of cigarette butts.

“Going to bed right away?” Will asked.

“Not immediately.” Hannibal said, “Perhaps I'll catch up on the news.”

“They probably think we've fled the country by now.”

“Soon.” Hannibal said, with a bare smile.

“I don't know how I'll sleep.” Will said, “I didn't sleep well back home; I'm not sure I'll even be able to sleep in a strange place.”

“If you lie down, and find that you cannot close your eyes, please knock on my door.” Hannibal said, “Perhaps we'll finish your bottle of whiskey.”

“A nightcap?”

“Or something of that sort.”

“Thanks.” Will said, squaring his shoulders. “But I doubt it.”

He unlocked his door, and let himself into the cramped motel room.

Kicking his shoes off, he took inventory of the cheap room. He smiled as he imagined Hannibal's disgust at the faded, peeling wallpaper, the worn bed sheets, and the grimy bathroom. Perhaps it was Hannibal who would not sleep.

Will stripped down to his boxers, and climbed into the bed. The mattress was lumpy, and the air conditioner unit hissed and rumbled at jolting intervals. Much to Will's surprise, however, he drifted to sleep in a matter of fifteen minutes.

His weary rest didn't last long.

He dreamed of falling. Endless, weightless falling. Every time he saw the waves rushing in to greet him, he reverted back to the top of the cliff to fall all over again.

After an exhausting cycle of what felt like a hundred or more falls, he jolted awake with a gasp, grabbing at the bed sheets to ground himself. He swiped a hand over his forehead, smearing his fingers through sweat and tangled curls. Sweat clung to his chest and armpits. An unnamed fear clutched at his throat.

Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he swiped for the lamp and flooded the room with yellowed light. The clock told him it had been less than an hour since he'd fallen asleep. In the dream, it had felt like days.

He breathed deep until his pulse was even again, and rose from the bed to shuffle to the bathroom. Greeting his ragged expression in the mirror, he muttered a curse.

He splashed water on his face, relieved himself, and walked back out into the bedroom to find the remnants of his whiskey.

He took a sip, and savored the whiskey in his mouth before letting it slide down his throat.

His thoughts drifted to the thin wall that separated his room from the neighboring one. Nothing but drywall and cracked paint stood between he and Hannibal. Perhaps Hannibal was sitting on his bed, watching the news and chuckling to himself. Perhaps he was already asleep.

Will took a deeper drink of whiskey.

He'd spent the better part of their roadtrip low in his seat, scowling at the bland landscape, and the dreadful heat. Tossing back painkillers, ignoring the pinch of his wounds, drinking his whiskey to escape the press of his thoughts.

He was tired. After hours of silence, trapped in the car with Hannibal, he was tired. Sick and tired of his back aching, and his head hurting, of his lips trapping secrets, of whiskey swallowing down truths.

Will grabbed his jeans, and stuffed his legs into them. He threw his shirt over his head, and marched toward the door before the shirt could reach his waist.

Throwing his door open, he stepped out onto the balcony where the incinerating heat of the day had faded into a warm, mellow breeze. Beyond the faded, yellow light of the motel sign, the desert beyond was swallowing darkness.

They were utterly alone.

Clutching the whiskey to his side, Will marched up to Hannibal's door, and pounded his fist against it.

His rapping was followed by several moments of silence before he heard the latch unlock. The door cracked open and inch, and Hannibal peered out at him.

A smile touched his mouth.

“Will.”

He pulled the door open father, allowing Will across the threshold.

“You came.”

Will held up the whiskey. “Someone's gotta drink this.”

Hannibal eased the door shut, and regarded Will with thinly veiled intrigue.

Will took a swig of the whiskey, and offered it to him.

Hannibal took the bottle.

Will crossed his arms, watching eagerly as Hannibal brought the bottle to his lips and took a delicate sip. He barely winced as the fiery whiskey spilled down his tongue and throat.

Will swallowed back a growl as Hannibal's throat clutched and bobbed around the liquid.

Hannibal lowered the bottle, and flicked his tongue across his lips. He crossed the room to where Will stood, and pressed the bottle back into Will's hands. Shifting past Will to the bed, he brushed his shoulder purposefully across Will's.

Taking a drink of the whiskey, Will turned slowly to watch Hannibal.

A roar filled his head. A roar like the ocean. Like a tide coming up to swallow his mewling complaints.

His fingers curled around the bottle, nails digging into the paper sack to reach for the cool glass beneath. A tremble rippled down his arms, through his veins, and into the pads of his fingers, coming to rest there with a tingle and an ache. His belly clenched, a predator sinking it's teeth into the meat of it's urges.

Will set the bottle down on the TV stand with a clank.

Hannibal began to turn, alerted by the sound, but he had hardly come about face before Will caught him by the shoulders and shoved him down onto the bed.

Hannibal's hands shot out to break his fall, and curled around the bed sheets as Will straddled his thighs.

“Will ...” Hannibal grunted, his face half-smashed into the bed sheets, “What are you ...”

Will clamped his hand around the back of Hannibal's neck, and bent down to breath hot across his cheek.

“I've been lying to myself.” Will whispered, “To you. To fucking God himself.”

Hannibal blinked. His breath hitched in the back of his his throat, and his fingers tightened around the sheets.

Will shifted his hips back, and let his weight settle against the warm, ample swell of Hannibal's backside.

Hannibal's lips pursed over a whimper.

“I've had just enough whiskey to convince myself this isn't a mistake.” Will whispered, his voice raw and husky with alcohol. “And I've had enough driving and silence between us in the last few days to last a lifetime.”

“You're breaking the silence.” Hannibal whispered, “I'm glad.”

Will swallowed hard as he felt Hannibal's hips rock gently back against him. The heat swirling low in his belly rose to claim his chest. The tingle that had once vibrated like an undercurrent in his veins evolved to rip tide, sucking him under. He felt himself hard and throbbing against the cleft of Hannibal's ass cheeks, separated by mere fabrics and stitching.

“Is this what you wanted?” Will asked.

“Will ...” Hannibal began.

He grasped at the bed sheets in an attempt to free his face from the sheets, but Will grabbed his wrist and twisted it viciously behind his back.

Hannibal grunted as Will pinned his wrist behind his back, and shifted his grip from Hannibal's neck to his hair. Will's fingers sank through strands of hair, nails scraping along Hannibal's scalp before coming to rest at his crown. With a pull, Will dragged Hannibal's head up from the sheets.

“I said … is this what you wanted?”

Hannibal breathed raggedly for a long moment, before nodding against Will's grasp.

“To say otherwise would be an egregious lie.”

Will mulled over Hannibal's reply while keeping him pinned. The silence stretched between them, need communicated only by the pulse of Will's erection against Hannibal's arched backside.

Will withdrew abruptly, releasing Hannibal's hair and dragging his hips from the warm cradle of Hannibal's ass.

Hannibal's head dropped to the sheets, and his free hand clawed across the bed.

Will held Hannibal's arm twisted behind his back as he rose just high enough to force Hannibal's trousers from his hips. Hannibal gave a muffled groan as the material ripped under Will's forceful need and the trousers came down around his thighs.

“Will ...” He grunted.

Will's only response was to grab onto the back of his boxers, and pull them down with his pants.

They both went still as Will's hand dragged across Hannibal's bare hip.

Will swallowed thickly. Need pulsed behind his eyelids, understated by the sense of surreal that overcame him. For a moment, he wondered if he was still dreaming.

Will let go of Hannibal's wrist. Hannibal's arm darted away, and tucked under himself to bring him up on his elbows. He cast a burning gaze over his shoulder at Will, the hazel of his eyes flaring bright with needs and demands.

Will rose just high enough to roll Hannibal over onto his back. The front of his boxers were snagged on his cock, material straining over the throbbing length.

Will grabbed the waistband of the boxers, and gently rolled the fabric down Hannibal's erection. His cock rose free of the boxers, swelling resplendent pink under the tempo of snaking, purple veins.

Will's breath caught in the back of his throat. His hand trembled against the ridge of Hannibal's hipbone, fingers all at once aching to touch him, but fearful of how reality might strike him once he laid hands on Hannibal's rigid cock.

“Will.” Hannibal murmured, his voice thready and high-pitched.

Will shifted his gaze up to Hannibal's face, and found himself pleased by the color high on Hannibal's cheeks, and the way his lips fell open with need.

“Perhaps ...” Hannibal breathed, “... you should kiss me.”

Will swallowed, and dragged his tongue across his lower lip.

 _Kiss him_.

It was a satisfactory thought. One he'd had before, but never with any threat of reality. A fantasy that he'd thought would never come to life.

_He probably tastes how cherry blossoms look. Sweet and tender, with a thread of the ethereal._

“Will.” Hannibal repeated, softer this time, more of a plea.

His cock plumped against his belly, flexing without ever being touched. Pearly at the tip. So hard.

Will surged down, catching Hannibal by the jaw and pinning his head back against the sheets. Forcing his jaw open before their lips even met.

Will closed his eyes as he rushed down towards Hannibal's slack-jawed expression of lust. Their lips clashed, clumsy with half-realized desires, and in part, residual anger.

The taste of Hannibal's mouth washed across Will's senses, blooming fresh need in his mind and shoving him past the brink of trepidation. His hesitation was long gone the moment he sealed the kiss. Pleasure and primal need steered him past the pitfall of regret, and into darker territory of his previously unmentioned fantasies.

Their lips and teeth grazed, and Hannibal's tongue darted against the rim of his upper lip. Will clutched Hannibal's jaw tighter, and bore down against him, grinding his teeth against Hannibal's lower lip in a search for submission. Hannibal whimpered, thrilling Will's chest with satisfaction.

Will kissed him until his breaths were coming rapid and shallow, and his mind was tilting. He was on the edge of losing control, yet he had never felt so steady, so determined.

Will pulled back to see Hannibal lying beneath him, gasping, and red-lipped, chin gleaming with the messy saliva Will's passion had left behind. His chest rose sharply with each breath, straining against the fabric of his shirt.

Will plucked open the buttons of Hannibal's shirt, gritting his teeth against a smile as the fabric fell open to reveal Hannibal's swelling chest, his nipples rising hard and dusky, his ribs pressed taut against his flesh. His belly quivered as Will grazed his fingertips down the middle of his chest, going through the thick of his chest hair and following the thinning trail down past his navel to the place where his cock lay hard and pink.

Hannibal's eyelids fluttered shut as Will allowed his fingertips to graze the shaft of his cock.

“Will.” He whispered, hoarsely.

Will dragged his thumb toward the head, feeling the swollen ridge beneath the velvet veneer of foreskin.

Hannibal's hips jolted against the tender touch. The pink, wet head of his cock peeked past foreskin, straining for friction.

Will brought his thumb back down to smooth over the taut swell of his balls. Biting his lower lip in concentration, Will curled his fingers underneath Hannibal's balls, and eased his palm up against them.

“Ohhh.” Hannibal moaned, his fingers clutching at the sheets. “Will ...”

Will watched in fascination as Hannibal's cock throbbed against his belly in response to Will's gentle fondling of his balls. He moved his palm in a grinding circle, and watched as Hannibal's back snapped taut and his mouth stretched open in a silent cry.

Hannibal's legs rose, thighs closing around Will's hand. He panted out an incoherent plea.

Clutching tighter at the tender sac, Will bent down to bring his mouth in line with Hannibal's cock head. His hair brushed against Hannibal's belly, drawing Hannibal's eyes open wide just before he closed his lips around the moist, swollen head.

“Will … Will.” Hannibal moaned, grasping desperately at the sheets.

His hips arched against Will's face, trembling and eager for more as Will dragged his lips in a languid suckle over the tip of his cock.

“Will ...”

Will closed his eyes, and breathed out through his nose. He sank down, taking as much of Hannibal cock in his mouth as he could without choking himself. He sucked up and down several times, letting the saliva accumulate at the back of his tongue and spill down past his lips to ease the friction of their skin. The saliva trickled warm and abundant down Hannibal's cock as Will's lips glided up and down, up and down. The head bumped against the back of his Will's tongue with every suckle.

“Will ...” Hannibal moaned, again, “Oh, please ...”

Will's responding moan was stifled by Hannibal's thick cock. The sound vibrating up Will's throat and against Hannibal's erection, drawing a tremble from Hannibal's hips.

Will sucked back up to the tip, and let his lips cling to the foreskin for a brief moment before he let go.

Hannibal gasped in a breath, and lapsed back against the sheets as the pleasure eased for a brief moment.

Will pulled Hannibal's trousers and boxers the rest of the way off his legs, and threw them to the ground.

Hannibal blinked up at him, cheeks entirely flushed, eyes wide.

“Sit up.” Will said.

Hannibal pushed himself upright, and eased to the edge of the bed. He leaned heavily on one arm, and shoved hair out of his face with the other. His shirt clung to his shoulders, the only remnant of his refined and controlled persona that still remained.

Will sank to his his knees between Hannibal's spread thighs, and caught him by the base of his cock.

Hannibal bit back a moan, and urged his hips forward.

Will took Hannibal in his mouth, gently this time. He slipped his tongue underneath foreskin, and swirled it around the head in a lazy circle. He could taste the salt of pre-cum, and the smell the musk of need. Hannibal radiated with it. Glowed with it. He was so close to spilling all over Will's mouth.

Hannibal's hand settled at the back of Will's head, hardly gripping but there all the same. It was tainted with possessiveness that he hadn't quite earned, but Will did not resent it. He leaned forward, bumping his forehead into Hannibal's belly with each swallow. Hannibal's cock was in his mouth, but it didn't feel close enough. He still ached for their skin to meld, for their mouths to clutch together as they joined, for nails tearing into flesh, for teeth laying hold of newly claimed territory.

Hannibal shuddered against him, hips drawing taut. His fingers clutched around the back of Will's neck. His moans eased to stiff whimpers.

Will tasted fresh drops of pre-cum. He could taste Hannibal's orgasm vibrating at the edge of his mind.

Will pulled back, wrenching his head free of Hannibal's grasp to leave Hannibal's cock standing there, wet and hard and aching.

Hannibal growled low in his throat.

As Will sat back against his heels, he lifted his gaze to see Hannibal's lips curled with frustration, and his eyes darkening like thunderclouds.

Will turned his head to drop a kiss against Hannibal's knee. He slid his cheek along Hannibal's thigh as he took Hannibal by the base of his cock. Slowing kissing toward the crux of his thigh and hip, Will met Hannibal's gaze with a coy expression.

Hannibal's teeth tucked over his lower lip as Will's mouth left a trail of a saliva and burning kisses in it's wake. The trek seemed to last for an eternity until Will's mouth found the crease of his thigh. Will nuzzled into the warm skin and soft hair, mouth seeking along the edge of Hannibal's balls and the base of his cock.

Hannibal sank his fingers into Will's hair, and gave his head a firm tug. Will allowed his mouth to dragged back to Hannibal's cock. He opened his mouth to take it, and Hannibal forced his head down.

Will's mouth sank all the way down, guided by the clutch of Hannibal's fingers in his hair. He suckled hard and quick, keeping his eyes open to gauge Hannibal's reactions. Hannibal's head tilted back, and his eyes drifted shut. His mouth slipped open in a low moan as Will sucked ardently at his throbbing, dripping cock.

Will tasted the hints of pre-cum with every bob of his head, and this time, with Hannibal's fingers wrapped around his hair, he couldn't pull back.

Hannibal's hips rocked against his face, the pattern of their thrusts growing jagged and reckless with every passing moment. Will grabbed onto Hannibal's thighs, steadying himself as Hannibal thrust into his face.

With a raw gasp, Hannibal's hips locked against Will's face. The first burst of release came wet and thick and sharp across Will's tongue, and he barely had a moment to swallow before Hannibal's hips jerked against him with the following spasms of pleasure. The rest came in jetting mouthfuls, more than Will could take. He pulled back, gasping and blinking as it dribbled past his lips and Hannibal's cock continued to spill across his cheeks.

Hannibal's fist flexed around his hair, holding Will in place until the vibrant orgasm faded into aftershocks. His fingers slipped out of Will's hair, and he sank back against the mattress, breathing in ragged gasps.

Will rose to his feet, and stumbled in shock to the bathroom. His body felt weightless and drifting, as if he was no longer a part of it. As if he stood outside of himself, watching in disbelief as he drunken body mindlessly took what it had always wanted.

In the bathroom, he spit into the sink, and washed his face with handfuls of water. Using his hands as he cup, he gargled water and spit again. The taste lingered, sharp and tangy and stubbornly engraving itself in his mind.

He met his flushed face in the mirror, and reached up to touch his mouth. His lips were pink and puffy from friction, matching the crimson that sprawled across his cheeks. His cock ached in his pants, but it came second to the pleasure he'd taken from watching Hannibal fall apart at his hands.

Will left the bathroom, and shuffled across the carpet.

Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed with a few used tissues crumpled on the sheet beside him. His shirt stuck damp to his shoulders, but the collar was unfolded and askew. He hadn't tried to put his pants back on.

He looked up when Will returned. A smile touched his lips.

“You continue to surprise me every day, Will.” He said.

Will smiled. Not because of what Hannibal said. Because of the raw, hoarse quality of his voice.

Will grabbed his bottle of whiskey from the TV stand, and walked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Hannibal asked.

Will twisted the doorknob open, and stepped back out into the cool, summer night.

“Goodnight, Hannibal.”

 

~

 

Driving through El Paso proved to be more difficult than the rest of their journey. They hit rush hour traffic, and sat on the highway at a near standstill for more than an hour before the congested freeway cleared up and allowed them to escape the city.

Neither of them spoke despite the copious amount of time and silence the traffic jam allowed them.

Will wondered why Hannibal didn't demand answers about last night.

He'd gone to bed after leaving Hannibal's room, and slept like a baby for the rest of the night. He woke up to find the wave of regret he'd been expecting battering against the shores of his mind.

He'd taken what he wanted. Getting nothing in return was of no consequence to him. What came now was what worried him.

He and Hannibal had always been good at talking while avoiding the issue entirely. He thought back to their days of therapy with a grim smile, aware that he would have traded anything for the safe layer of professionalism that stood between them back then for the raw, aching silence of two men on the run.

Doctor and patient relationship was far behind them. Investigator and prisoner had been abolished. Now they were just fugitives, alone with each other and their desires, unwilling – perhaps unable – to find the right words.

At noon, they stopped for lunch at a small diner just off the highway.

They sat across from each other in the green, leather booth with their plates of steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes between them. The waitress kept their coffee cups full.

“Do you have a plan for crossing the border?” Will asked.

“Of course.”

“It's dangerous.” Will said, “We could get stopped.”

“We won't be.”

Will uttered a sigh, and dragged his knife through his steak. The steak was delicious, but he could hardly appreciate the blood and juice sluicing down his tongue each time his teeth delved in.

“So, what's in Mexico?” He asked.

“Freedom.”

Will set his fork and knife down, and regarded Hannibal with narrowed eyes.

“I know you. You don't go anywhere without good reason. Florence had significance to you because of your teenage years spent there.”

“Unfortunately, after the havoc you and I wreaked there all those years ago, I can't go back there.” Hannibal said, “I would have loved to take you.”

“Maybe in another couple years we can.”

“Will you still be with me in another couple of years?” Hannibal asked.

Will frowned, and cocked his head. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“You live a transient life.” Hannibal said, “You always have. You have told me how your father took you from place to place. You were always the new child in school, an outcast. You were a police officer, you were a teacher, then an investigator, and then you went off and married Molly Foster and started fixing boat motors on the lake.”

Will turned his gaze to the window of the diner at the mention of Molly.

“You don't stay in one place, much less with one person.” Hannibal said, “I wouldn't fool myself into thinking you wouldn't once again reshape your identity and go off to find a different life. A more pleasing one.”

“I didn't shape this identity. You did.”

“I uncovered it. Unveiled it.”

“Made my eyes to see?”

“And your ears to hear. Your hands to devise judgment and death, just as mine do.”

“What makes you think there's a more pleasing life out there?”

“I would love to assume there isn't.” Hannibal said, “But I haven't seen the entire world, or what your mind can construct, Will. The possibilities are endless.”

“I don't know where I would go.” Will said, “At least, a place where you wouldn't follow.”

“If you chose to leave, I would let you go.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You've freed yourself, Will.” Hannibal said, “I can no longer help you evolve. You've become. I no longer have agency over you.”

Will drew in a deep breath, and waved a hand.

“Why don't you just say what you're thinking?”

“And what is that?”

Will met Hannibal's soft, questioning gaze with a hard glance. He released a gruff chuckle.

“Ask me about last night.” He said.

There was hardly a shift in Hannibal's expression, but Will caught the nuances between questioning and realization.

“And what would that avail me?” Hannibal murmured, “Not the truth, I'm sure.”

“You could always pin me down on a bed, and twist my arm behind my back.” Will said, “You were rather helpless to do anything but follow my orders; I'm sure it would be the same if our positions were exchanged.”

“I have no interest in pinning you down.” Hannibal said, “You gained what you wanted from doing such a thing to me, but I would not.”

“Why not?” Will asked, “I'm sure you'd get answers.”

“But not the truth. Not entirely.”

“No.” Will said, releasing a low sigh. “I suppose not.”

“Therefore, I've chosen not to ask you about it before.” Hannibal said, “You'll explain your actions to me when you are ready, and not before. I prefer to hear your thoughts, fully gestated.”

“Which is a manipulation in itself to get me to talk.”

“Perhaps.”

“Sometimes you forget I know you just as well as you know me.” Will said, “I can see all your tricks.”

“Can you?”

“Yes. You don't surprise me anymore.”

“Is that supposed to sting?” Hannibal asked, “Because I said you still surprise me?”

“Sure.”

Hannibal smiled.

They finished eating their meal, and Hannibal left a generous tip on the table. They walked back out to the car.

“I'll drive.” Will said, holding out his hand for the keys.

“Are you sure?” Hannibal asked, “I have no problem driving the whole way.”

“No, I want to.”

“Very well.”

Hannibal handed the keys off to Will, and walked around the nose of car to the passenger's side.

Will climbed behind the wheel, and readjusted the seat to his liking. Starting the engine, he steered them back out onto the highway.

Hannibal tuned the radio to the classical station. He folded his hands in his lap, and gazed out the window as Will drove. He seemed content to let their moratorium go on.

Will clenched his fingers around the wheel, and tried to ignore his thoughts. At the moment, the road was ahead of them. There was the journey to focus on. He wasn't sure what he would do with himself when they reached their destination.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Much to Will's surprise, crossing the border into Mexico went without trouble.

When the boarder agent leaned over the car to ask them what their destination was, Hannibal showed him their fake passports and gave some story about going down to Mexico for vacation. The border agent looked at their passports, regarded Hannibal's cherubic expression, and waved them on through.

Hannibal smiled as they crossed the bridge into Mexico.

“I can't believe they didn't stop us.” Will said.

“I told you it would be fine. You should really trust me more, Will.”

“I do trust you.”

Hannibal glanced over at him, mild surprise registering on his face.

“Do you? Really?”

“Yeah.” Will said, “Do you think I would be driving cross-country with you, and escaping into Mexico if I didn't?”

“You don't have to trust me to do those things.” Hannibal said, “You're capable of taking care of yourself in any given situation.”

“Don't you trust me?” Will asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you shouldn't be surprised.” Will said, “I don't think we feel that differently about each other, Hannibal.”

“Shall we compare and contrast?”

“I don't think it requires that close of inspection.”

“Any relationship does.” Hannibal said, “Especially a dangerous ones such as ours.”

“Dangerous.” Will echoed.

“Death and pain are always around the corner.”

“I'm not interested in death and pain anymore.” Will said, “At least not from you.”

“You tried to kill us. That surprises me.”

“While you were taking care of me, nursing us back to health, I realized it was a bad choice.” Will said, “I thought I couldn't live with what I'd turned into, but it turns out, it was easier than I thought. The difficult part isn't about killing ...”

“What is it about?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“You're in love with me, right?”

The conversation stalled. Hannibal lifted his chin, and focused on the road ahead while Will's words sank into the air around them.

Will observed his profile, slightly pleased, slightly horrified he'd spoken the words aloud.

“I realized it.” Will murmured, “Right before … before that night. And when I realized it, I also realized how blind I'd been.”

“Blind how?” Hannibal whispered.

“To not seeing it before.” Will said, “To not realizing that you've been in love with me since the beginning.”

“The beginning ...”

“The moment you laid eyes on me.” Will said.

He shook his head, and uttered a low chuckle.

“You don't know how much I hated you.” He whispered, “How much I _thought_ I hated you.”

“From the beginning?” Hannibal asked.

“I hated how handsome you were.” Will said, “Sitting across from me with your nice clothes, and your good cologne. The way you fucking smiled at me when you were tearing my defenses to pieces.”

Hannibal's mouth twitched with a smile.

“Is that so?”

“I hated how confident you were.” Will said, “How Jack respected you while he was treating me like a child.”

“Is that all?”

“No.” Will said, “Then you turned up on my hotel doorstep with breakfast. I thought, is there something this guy can't do? Maybe he's good at everything. I hated that more than anything.”

“I could tell.”

“Of course you could. I was brimming with anger.”

“Yes, I seem to recall you saying … 'I don't find you that interesting.'”

Will grunted a chuckle. “But I did.”

“I know.”

“And you said, 'God forbid we become friendly.'”

“Yes, God forbid.” Hannibal murmured.

“I think we became more than friendly.” Will said, “And that brings us back to my original question ...”

“Am I in love with you?”

Will's confidence flickered for a moment at Hannibal's brazen response. He gave a clipped nod.

“'In love' is such a subjective phrase.” Hannibal said, “It means different things to different people. Sometimes when people say they are in love, what they really mean is 'I want to fuck you'.”

Will nearly choked.

Hannibal smiled, coolly.

“Is that what you're asking me, Will?”

“Maybe. I don't know anymore.”

“That's a much simpler response.” Hannibal said, “One I think has already been answered.”

Will blushed at the recollection of sucking on Hannibal's cock. He raked a hand through his hair, and cleared his throat.

“I guess that's not what I'm asking, then.” He said.

“You're asking if I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If I would die for you. If I would love to put a ring on your finger, and claim you as my own.”

“Marriage.” Will chuckled. “I've been through all that. It's not as great as it sounds.”

“No … But those are the things people think of when they say they are 'in love'.”

“I wanted a simpler answer than that.”

“It's not simple. Not as simple as sex.” Hannibal said, “Will, the love that most people think of is the love that poets right about. Romance, declarations of love, passion, and devotion. It's been written about since the dawn of the world. But we are not like that. When the world considers whether or not we are in love, it will not be written about by poets – it will be written about by historians. Historians are the people who record the great acts of the world, the monumental moments that shaped mankind. They write about kings, and wars, bloodshed, and violence. They write about earth-shattering moments that people will never dare forget. Between the kings and the conquering of nations, that's where we belong, Will.”

“You fancy us gods.” Will murmured, “Rulers.”

“Divining acts of cruelty and bloodshed for own pleasure.” Hannibal said, “Yes, I think that's how I fancy us, Will.”

“Does that answer my question?”

“I'm not the one asking.” Hannibal said, turning a sparkling gaze to Will. “You are.”

 

~

 

At night, Hannibal steered the car off the freeway and to a small inn. His Spanish was not as sharp as it had once been, but he managed to relate to the clerk that they required two rooms for the evening.

As they walked down the narrow hallway to their rooms, Hannibal observed the back of Will's head with predatory eyes.

His curiosity edged at his brain like a dull razor, threatening to cut through the veil of metaphors and half-truths between them. He longed to see Will's desires fully formed and lethal as they were; he longed for Will to brazenly tell the truth.

But Will wasn't ready to reveal everything just yet. He stood in the midst of self-laid minefield, convinced he was protecting himself by threatening or hurting anyone that got too close. Hannibal was the only one clever enough to pick his way through the defenses and triggers, and when he got close enough, he would poke in just the right place to send Will's final walls scattering.

They paused at their room doors.

“If you can't sleep again, you know where to find me.” Hannibal murmured.

“Is that an invitation?” Will asked, stiffly.

“It's whatever you'd like it to be.”

“Don't do that.” Will bit off, his eyebrows furling in distaste.

“Do what?”

“Make me think it's _my_ idea.” Will said, “I know when you're trying to pull my strings, Hannibal.”

“It _was_ your idea.” Hannibal countered, coolly.

Will huffed out a sigh, and whisked his key card through the lock. The latch clicked open, and he shoved past the threshold.

“Goodnight, Hannibal.” He muttered.

The door swung shut behind him, leaving Hannibal alone in the hallway.

Hannibal smirked at the empty hallway, and let himself into his room.

This night's hotel was worse than the previous one, and he wouldn't be surprised if it were infested with cockroaches. In other circumstances, he would not have deigned to set one foot in a place like this hotel, but it was worth it for the small experiment he was doing.

Hannibal laid out on the bed, and clicked the TV on. Most of the channels were in Spanish, but he could make do. After today, he would have to brush up on his Spanish if he wanted to live in Mexico for the foreseeable future.

The thought of coaching Will in learning Spanish gave him a chuckle, but he quickly sobered as he recalled their conversation at the diner that afternoon.

For all he knew, the moment Will had his hands on enough money to survive and his passport, he could disappear into thin air. Hannibal wouldn't blame him. If their positions were switched, he wouldn't be satisfied with being dependent upon someone else.

That thought, accompanied by his eagerness to hear Will at his door, kept him awake until the small hours of the morning. Somewhere around three a.m. he drifted off to sleep, and jarred awake hours later only to find that it was morning already.

He crawled out of bed, and took his bag of toiletries to the bathroom. The bathroom was in desperate need of bleach. He did his best not to touch anything as he made himself presentable in the small, cracked mirror.

He stepped out into the hallway half an hour later, and knocked on Will's door.

Will opened the door, and let it hang open as he walked back to the bed. He was tossing his pajamas and toiletries into his suitcase.

“I'm almost ready.” He said.

Hannibal stepped just inside the hotel room, and watched Will finish packing. When Will had the suitcase zipped up, they walked back down the hall to the clerk's desk.

After signing out, Hannibal took the lead out to their car. Hardly any other cars inhabited the parking lot, leaving them alone even in the wide open landscape.

Will suppressed a yawn and as he hoisted his suitcase into the trunk of the car.

Hannibal noted the dark circles under his eyes, and red-rimmed lids.

“Are you feeling well?” Hannibal asked.

“I didn't sleep good last night.” Will said, “I'm fine.”

“I told you to come over if you couldn't sleep. I myself was awake until three.”

Will cast him an exasperated expression.

“Or you could simply put the seat back while I drive.” Hannibal said.

“Maybe I will.”

They climbed back into the car, and Hannibal started the engine.

He was sick to death of driving, but they were nearly to their destination. The hours ahead were manageable in comparison to the road behind them.

Will cranked his seat back as they bounced out of the gravel parking lot of the hotel, and back onto the asphalt. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he sank low against the seat.

After some time, he relaxed against the seat, and surprised Hannibal by truly falling asleep. A few hours later, he scrambled upright in his seat, one hand slapping against the leather cover.

“Are you all right?” Hannibal asked.

Will relaxed against the seat, and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Fine.” He muttered.

“Do you feel better?”

“A little.”

“Good.”

Will leaned forward in his seat as they sped toward a road sign that read _Bienvenido a Sonora_.

He cast Hannibal a frown. “Is this it?”

“This is the state of Sonora, yes.” Hannibal said, “We're headed for the city, Magdalena De Kino.”

“We're here already.” Will said.

“Yes.”

“Why didn't we just keep driving last night? We could have made it. It wasn't that late when we stopped.”

Hannibal pressed his gaze to the road ahead of them. Will gaze drilled into the side of his head.

“But you knew that, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

Will didn't make another sound, but Hannibal could sense the displeasure rolling off him in waves. He crossed his arms, and glared out the window for several minutes.

“You wanted to see what I would do.” He said, at last breaking the silence.

“I was curious.”

“You wanted to create the circumstances again, and see if I would repeat what I did the night before.”

“But you didn't.” Hannibal said, “My curiosity is sated, then.”

“Is that why you were up until three o'clock?” Will asked, “You were waiting for me?”

Hannibal wrapped his fingers tighter around the steering wheel.

“Jesus.” Will muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What do you expect of me?” Hannibal asked, “Without warning or prelude, you barge into my hotel room, and have your way with me, and leave as if never happened. Did you assume I wouldn't question your motives, your desires?”

“I was drunk.” Will said, sharply, “I didn't know what I was doing.”

“You seemed in control to me.”

“And for the record, I didn't 'have my way'.” Will said, waving a dramatic hand. “You were going along with it just fine.”

“There wouldn't have been anything to go along with, if you hadn't come over in the first place.”

“You _wanted_ me to come over.” Will said, his voice rising in disbelief, “You _asked_ me to, for Christ's sake.”

“I told you if you couldn't sleep that we should have a nightcap.” Hannibal said, “In no way does that suggest that I was inviting you to perform fellatio.”

“Don't call it that.” Will muttered, cradling his face in his hands.

Hannibal released a sigh through his nostrils, and cast a quick glance from the road to Will.

“Why did you do it, then?” He asked, “I can see that you regret your decision now.”

“I thought you said you would let me tell you in my own time.”

“At this rate, I may never get the answer.”

Will clutched a hand through his hair, and stared at the dust-caked mat beneath his feet.

“I just ...” He whispered, his voice fading around the explanation.

Hannibal waited, impatiently.

“I had to know that I could.” Will added, softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to see you … vulnerable.” Will whispered, keeping his head tilted toward the floor. “To know that I was the one responsible.”

Hannibal swallowed hard. His fingers ached around his grip on the steering wheel. Sunlight glinted blinding off the windshield, forcing him to squint at the asphalt ahead.

“I wanted to know that I could make you weak.” Will said, “And that I could walk away while you were in pieces.”

“How I left you?”

There was a beat before Will ground out his reply. “Yes.”

“That was the only reason?”

Will pursed his lips. He stared out the window, and the glare of sunlight turned his curls to a glowing halo.

“The only reason I could be satisfied with.”

“But not the only one.”

“No.”

Hannibal focused on the road. Ahead, signs pointed toward the city of Magdalena de Kino, but he had his eyes on the small, dirt road just ahead. Braking resolutely, he turned the car onto the narrow, gravel and dust road that led off into a secluded section of desert.

“What are you doing?” Will asked.

Hannibal brought them to a jolting stop on the side of the desert road, and shoved the gearshift into park.

Will gazed at him, his wide, blue eyes like the ocean in two drops.

Hannibal surged across the gearshift, and seized Will by the face. Their mouth clashed, Will's stiff and protesting, Hannibal's poised in a hungry snarl. He sank his fingers into Will's nape, and dragged his head back into a more vulnerable position as he delved his tongue across Will's whimpering mouth.

He pulled back just far enough to see Will's eyes round with shock, and his lips puckered pink and swollen from Hannibal's kiss.

Hannibal ripped off his seat belt, and dragged Will in for another kiss. This time, Will's hands rose to flutter against his chest. His fingers trembled for a moment before catching onto the fabric of Hannibal's shirt. A small whimper rose from his the back of his throat and vibrated between their joined mouths.

Hannibal reached between them, fingers questing for the seat belt latch holding Will back. He stabbed the button with his thumb, and released the belt with spring of elastic. Will untangled his arm from the seatbelt, and lurched forward against Hannibal's kiss. Fingers clawing at Hannibal's chest, he pressed a low, eager moan into the kiss.

Hannibal broke the kiss, but kept his cheek pressed against Will's. They panted breathlessly into the silence of the car.

“Will,” Hannibal murmured.

Will swallowed convulsively. “Wh... what?”  
“You didn't have to try.”

Will pulled back to look into Hannibal's eyes. Hannibal clutched at Will's neck, desperate at the thought of losing his grasp.

“Didn't have to try?” He echoed.

“To make me vulnerable to you.” Hannibal whispered, “You didn't have to try.”

Will blinked, his lips parting in revelation.

“In that moment on the cliff, when I saw you breaking through your final stage of becoming, I was brought to my knees. I haven't found my footing since.”

Will's eyebrows furrowed deeper. Hannibal could glimpse the thoughts rolling and gaining speed behind the cerulean blue of his eyes.

Without replying, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth over Hannibal's. This kiss was a soft and tender caress, their lips stroking back and forth, tongues sampling briefly at union. Warmth throbbed between them, a low hum of mutual need that stretched to dull ache in favor of this simple intimacy.

Hannibal broke his lips from Will's, and nuzzled down his jawline. Will's stubble scraped across his lips as he made his way down to the curve of Will's throat to the rapid tempo of his pulse. He curled his lips back to gently nibble at Will's tender skin. The graze of his teeth elicited a whimper from Will, and he pressed closer to the sound vibrating from Will's throat. Pressing his nose just below Will's earlobe, he breathed in deep the warm, alpine scent that saturated Will's flesh.

Will drew in a shuddering breath, and flexed his fingers around Hannibal's shirt.

Hannibal lifted his head to watch the color curl up Will's neck and cheeks like a smear of a paintbrush. His eyes sparked icy blue against the rosebud stains.

Silence reigned between them, yet their eyes locked in understanding.

Hannibal pressed another row of kisses down Will's neck, all the way to the bunched muscle of his shoulder. He bit in softly, humming appreciation as Will's shoulder flexed harder. He reached between them, and snaked his hand beneath Will's shirt. Will's skin radiated warmth, and slid silky soft beneath the cruise of Hannibal's palm. He traced the ridges of Will's ribs, climbing each one until he found the pebbled rise of his nipple.

Will's chest compressed with a whine. He clutched at Hannibal's shoulder, nails digging in. His hips urged up from the seat, the outline of his erection obvious beneath the strain of his jeans.

Hannibal withdrew, and pressed his gaze to Will's.

“Get in the backseat.” He said, his voice husky growl.

Will's eyelashes beat against his warming cheeks. He hesitated for only a moment before he jarred into action. His hand patted at the car door in searg for the latch, and he shoved it open with his shoulder.

Hannibal spun to his own door, and rose from the car at a determined pace. He cast a few quick glances up and down the street, but they were alone except for the howl of the wind.

He yanked the back door open, and ducked inside just as Will was pulling his own door shut.

The moment the door closed behind him, he lunged across the seat, and took Will down against the cushions with his hands around Will's jaw.

Will moaned as Hannibal's mouth devoured his, teeth and lips taking Will's before Will could muster a response. His legs wiggled out from underneath them, and wound around Hannibal's waist, dragging Hannibal over him with forceful clutch.

Hannibal breathed out a groan as the motion brought his erection hard against Will's. Will rolled his hips in circle against Hannibal's, grinding their cocks together. Fabric chafed between them, dragging frustrated moans from Hannibal's throat.

He braced himself one hand, and used the other to ply Will's trousers open. Will's eyes slid shut, teeth tucking over his lower lip. He held his hands in clenched fists above his head, waiting for the moment when Hannibal touched him.

Hannibal dragged Will's jeans down his hips, and left them bunched around Will's hips as he focused the stroke of his fingertips over the jut of Will's hip bones. Will moaned softly. His belly clenched at the caress of Hannibal's thumb through the dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers.

“Hannibal.” He whispered, raggedly.

His hips curled upward, hunting for more.

Hannibal bit back a smile, and delved his fingers under the waistband of Will's boxers. He peeled them back slowly, allowing Will's cock to catch briefly on the material before springing free and slapping hard against his belly.

Will muffled a whimper behind the purse of his lips. His eyes fluttered open, hazarding a glimpse down at Hannibal's hands disrobing him. He blushed deeper pink, and dragged his knuckles over his mouth. He watched with mounting need as Hannibal dragged the jeans and boxers from his legs.

Hannibal tossed Will's shoes, trousers, and boxers to the floor, and pushed Will's legs open across the back seat.

His thighs clenched, hips bucking against Hannibal's grip. His cock, rigid and netted with bulging veins, twitched against his quivering belly. A moan burst past his lips, and he pressed his knuckle between his teeth to bite back the surge of need.

Hannibal drew in a shuddering breath. He grappled at the reins of his control, eager to have Will right this moment, but aching to make the first time he was able to touch Will last.

He was so beautiful in this moment with his body stretched across the faded leather, his desires running rampant, his curls all askew, and his pretty, pink cock leaking a trail of arousal across the alabaster plane of his stomach. He was a work of art, like Adonis descended to a mortal's body.

Hannibal wanted to stretch him out and watch him writhe in feverish need forever – but he had to please Will. He had to taste the sharp salt of his release, had to hear his orgasmic whimpers.

Hannibal lowered himself between Will's legs, bringing his gaze within inches of Will's engorged cock. He hesitated for only a moment before grazing his fingertips along the shaft, and up over the swollen head.

Will clenched and shivered, a sharp inhale hissing past his teeth.

Hannibal cast a fleeting gaze up at Will's expression, pleased to see him poised and waiting eagerly.

Hannibal wet his lips with a swipe of his tongue, and arched forward to take the head of Will's cock. The tender flesh was stretched taut over the wild pulse of veins, and at the center, a bead of crystal arousal swelled to Hannibal's suckle.

Will's hips surged against the first brush of Hannibal's lips. He moaned in halting bursts, his hands grappling across the seat cushions to steady himself.

Hannibal took Will's hips in his grasp, and pinned them against the seat as he took Will's cock deeper past his lips. He could feel Will's muscles flexing and rebelling against his hold. The tang of salt greeted the back of Hannibal's tongue, and the musky smell of arousal curled through his nostrils and into the primal part of his brain that now drove him.

They may have well have been animals, for Hannibal could scent out Will's heat, and he pounced on Will's vulnerability with a voracious hunger. The gnawing need that he'd kept trapped at the back of his brain burst free with the smallest, needy urge of Will's hips. With a low growl, he hastened the pace of his mouth over Will's hard cock.

Will cried out in pleasure as Hannibal's mouth surged up and down the length of his cock. With his hips pinned down against the seat, he could do little more than bat his hands against Hannibal's shoulders and the leather seat covers. His back arched taut, head lolling back and forth against the cushion in fevered rush toward climax.

Hannibal clamped his lips down as the tasted rush after rush of pre-cum, and noted the telling tremble of Will's hips. He tuned his ears to the sound of Will's breathless, high-pitched moans, drawing pleasure from the increasing ragged, whining quality.

A tremble overtook Will's whole body, and his hips wiggled desperately under Hannibal's iron grip. He grabbed at Hannibal's hair, fingers sinking through the strands, nails cutting into scalp. The other hand batted at Hannibal's shoulder, both clutching and pushing away as the pleasure reached an unbearable peak.

Hannibal increased his pace yet again, pumping Will's cock in and out of his mouth with the rhythmic bob of his head, and letting the saliva pour past his lips and down the shaft. He wrapped his fist around the base of Will's cock, and dragged it up to meet his lips with every swallow.

As he felt Will's muscles beginning to clench, he allowed his teeth to scrape just a bit along the shaft. It was gentle and hardly a scratch, yet it triggered the waves of pleasure. Will went stiff, his hips suspended from the leather for a long, aching moment before he bucked into Hannibal's face. His moans reached a fever-pitch and shattered into a long whine and a broken sob. He pulled at Hannibal's hair, fist clenching and releasing with every spasm of pleasure that rippled through his body.

Hannibal groaned in satisfaction at the first drops of release that spilled across his tongue. He leaned forward, clamping his lips in a suction around Will's cock as the rest of it came rushing out of him in jolting spurts. Hannibal gulped it down, savoring the sharp flavor and the tiny nuances that only a palate as refined as his own could appreciate.

He suckled at Will's cock until Will was squirming and whimpering for mercy.

Pulling back, Hannibal wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, and met Will's gaze with a satisfied smile.

“You taste exquisite.” He murmured, his voice raw and paper thin.

Will turned crimson as he struggled to sit upright. His shirt clung with perspiration to his chest and back, and his hair curled in every direction. Hannibal could see the pink impression of his fingers on Will's hips, and thought that he would like to see them turn to purple bruises.

Hannibal prowled across the back seat, and caught Will by the nape. He pressed his lips to the corner of Will's mouths, and dragged a messy kiss across his jaw and to the pinnacle of his neck. Baring his teeth, he bit at Will's neck.

Will arched, uttering a soft whimper.

“Hannibal.” He whispered, pressing a hand to Hannibal's chest.

“Mm?”

Will let his hand slide down Hannibal's stomach, to the button of his trousers. He paused, pressing a question into the silence.

“If you feel so inclined, I won't stop you.” Hannibal whispered against Will's ear.

Will's hand lingered at Hannibal's stomach for a moment before confidently tugging the button open. The zipper released with a hiss, and Hannibal's cock swelled toward freedom.

“Inclination isn't a question.” Will murmured.

Hannibal sighed, eyes rolling back as Will delved his hand underneath the trousers to grasp Hannibal's cock through his boxers.

“I want you to ask me.” Will added, “Or tell me. Just like you told me to get back here.”

Hannibal pursed back a moan. Will's hand jerked him steadily, fostering the simmering need to a throbbing roar.

“Will ...” He panted.

Will tugged back the waistband of his boxers, and let them snap back down around the shaft, trapping Hannibal's cock upright against his stomach.

Hannibal bit back a whimper, and clutched at the seat cushion.

“Please.” He whispered.

Will stroked a thumb across the head, finding the tiny bit of dampness at the crevice. Hannibal's hips urged toward the caress.

“Say it.” Will whispered.

Hannibal cracked his eyes open to see Will gazing boldly down at him. His eyes flared bright at Hannibal's distress, like twin cracks of lightning splitting the night.

Hannibal licked his lips, and met Will's gaze with a simmering look of his own.

“Get on your knees.” He whispered.

Will's cheeks glowed, and his mouth parted in satisfaction.

Sliding down to the floor, he dragged Hannibal's pants with him until they were bunched around his ankles. He dove forward, taking Hannibal's cock in his fist and guiding it straight to his lips.

Hannibal's hips arched at the moist, velvet heat of Will's mouth stretching around his cock. Sensitive and fully hard, his cock jumped at the slightest caress of Will's lips. The farther Will tunneled down, the harder Hannibal's belly clenched at the not so distant haze of orgasm.

He laced a hand through Will's hair, dragging Will over his thighs with his head bent tight over Hannibal's cock. His back muscles rippled as he braced himself into position, and Hannibal took in every tiny shift and flex with an aroused and fascinated gaze.

He couldn't glimpse Will's face, just the back of his curly head, and the tendons in the back of his neck clenching tight with every thrust. Even so, Hannibal could imagine his pretty lips stretched around the thick shaft of Hannibal's cock, his chin wet with dribbling saliva, his cheeks splashed with exhilarated red.

The imagery creating itself in his head was enough to send Hannibal aching and moaning toward orgasm. He clutched at Will's hair in a desperate attempt to get the pleasure closer, faster. The need pounded like a drum through his veins, and despite the clench of muscles and his razor-sharp concentration, his orgasm lingered just out of his reach.

Will sucked off of him with a wet pop, leaving his cock standing wet and hard.

Hannibal growled low in his throat, and grabbed for Will's hair.

Will twisted away from the sloppy grab, and climbed up onto Hannibal's lap. Straddling Hannibal's thighs, he nudged his lips against Hannibal's. His mouth tasted of heady arousal and the dense flavor of flesh. Moisture swirled behind his lips, abundant from salivating all over Hannibal's cock. As their mouths joined, his tongue arched forward to shove past Hannibal's teeth and glide over his palate.

Hannibal clutched at Will's hips as Will reached between them to take Hannibal's cock in his hand. He stroked slow and steady, dragging the pleasure from Hannibal's shuddering body like poison from a wound. All the while, he kissed Hannibal's mouth, jaw and throat with the burning scrape of his stubble just behind the velvet stroke of his lips.

The pleasure crept toward him at low hum, like honey crawling through his veins. Sweet, intoxicating, thick and heady. When at last it trickled down into his belly and wrapped around his cock, he was panting and whimpering, his hips pulsing in understated spasms to the tunnel of Will's hand. Release spilled in hard, thick gushes down Will's knuckles and between his fingers, and dappled the front of Hannibal's shirt.

The orgasm clutched him in dizzying embrace for several eternal moments. He felt paralyzed, his limbs lying useless around him, his throat able to offer up little more than a few high-pitched whimpers.

Will milked all that he could from Hannibal with lingering pumps of his fist. Hannibal groaned and twitched, his skin screaming at the harsh contact to his sensitized cock.

Will released him, and wiped his hand across Hannibal's shirt. It left behind a huge, wet smear on Hannibal's chest.

Hannibal forced his eyes open to see Will bending down to kiss him. He weakly lifted his hand to cradle Will's face as they kissed softly.

Sighing, Will sank down to the seat next to Hannibal, and rested his head on Hannibal's shoulder.

“I feel like I've been asleep.” He murmured, “Ever since the fall … I feel like I've been in a dream.”

“Then it is a good dream.” Hannibal replied.

“No.” Will said, “No, I know that I'm awake now … This is reality, and I can accept it. I can live it, and if I want to, I can change it.”

“What would you like to change?”

Will sat up, his eyes lighting up in a way that Hannibal hadn't glimpsed in ages.

“This.” He said, “I don't want my definition of us to be fumbling around in the backseat like teenagers.”

“No?” Hannibal asked, “I didn't find it horribly displeasing.”

Will smiled, and ducked his head.

“I just … I want a bed. A window looking out at the ocean. You … lying next to me. I don't want awful silences and guarded questions. I don't want to drive for hours anymore.”

Hannibal tucked his fingers under Will's chin, and brought his head up so that their eyes could meet.

“Me either.” He said, “I like it here already. Let's stay for awhile.”

 

 


	3. Epilogue

The town of Magdalena de Kino was a quaint, colorful sampling of Mexico with a quality of nostalgia and timelessness. Historic buildings and statues were around every corner, and the locals walked the streets in their bright garb under the baking sunlight. Signs pointed toward tourist exhibits, but Will picked out the arrows pointing toward the sea before any of the rest of the them.

“You haven't told me much about the plan.” Will said.

“In part, it's been a secret.”

Will cast Hannibal a curious gaze, but Hannibal's expression was placid and unreadable.

“Is this where we'll be living?” Will asked.

“Yes.”

“Closer the ocean, I hope.”

“Perhaps.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “Is that where we're going right now?”

“Just sit still and wait.”

“Fine.”

Will sat back in his seat, and watched the stucco facades and street murals pass him by.

He didn't sit forward until Hannibal eased the car to a stop at the curb. Just beyond the car, a courtyard was paved with square, beige stones, and in the center, a round fountain jetted water twenty feet in the air. Behind the fountain, a stretch of steps led up to the arched doorway of a Spanish mission. The single bell tower held a gleaming, white cross aloft.

“A church?” Will asked.

“La Iglesia de Santa Maria Magdalena.” Hannibal said, “It was built by a Jesuit missionary in the 1800's, and has since become a focal point of the community. Inside is a statue of Saint Francis Xavier. One of the largest religious pilgrimages in the world happens each year in October when there is a celebration held here in his honor.”

“That's why you wanted to come here?” Will asked.

“I have what you might call a fascination with historic churches.” Hannibal said.

“Why? Because they have more of a chance of collapsing?” Will asked, coyly.

Hannibal turned a glacial smile at Will.

“I've always been intrigued by religion.” He said, “People pour their lives in serving a god whom they cannot see, who rarely rewards them. Churches like this one number in the thousands, if not millions. If there's one thing everyone in this world, regardless of race, has in common, it's the need to believe in a higher power.”

“You don't believe in a higher power?”

“Do you?”

Will shrugged. “I haven't been persuaded that it would do me any good.”

“Therein lies the key.” Hannibal said, “People gain what they _want_ out of religion, not necessarily what religion has to offer.”

Will considered Hannibal's remark, and cleared his throat.

“Are we going in?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal and Will crossed the plaza under the beat of midday sun.

Hannibal paused in front of the massive, wooden doors before grasping the handle and admitting them into the temple.

Inside, the stone walls and domed ceiling offered a cool and still vacuum untouched by the muggy heat and dust just outside the doors. Two rows of wooden benches led to the front of the chapel where four stone beams supported the ceiling and rose to meet at the center of the rotunda above. At the far end of the temple, a serene statue of Saint Mary Magdalene presided over the room. White-washed walls put into visual the sense of purity within the sacred walls.

Hannibal approached the statue of Mary, his gaze fixed on her downcast eyes and sweet expression.

“One of the most controversial saints in the Roman Catholic religion.” He murmured, his voice rippling through the quiet of the temple.

“Controversial?” Will asked.

“Many believe she was a prostitute, but scripture never supports that claim. It is stated, however, that Christ cast out demons inhabiting her body.”

“What makes her worthy of sainthood?”

“After the cleansing, she became a witness for Christ. She followed him for the rest of his life, was present at the crucifixion, and at the resurrection.”

Will regarded the statue with curiosity. He wasn't an expert on religion, much less Catholicism, and to him, all of the statues of saints appeared the same to him. But, as he stood next to Hannibal, gazing up at Mary, he felt a ripple of kinship wash through his chest.

“She became the patroness of converts, repentant sinners, and sexual temptation.” Hannibal said, “One of the most human of the saints. We can all relate to her in some way, being the imperfect beings that we are.”

“You're not repentant.” Will murmured, “You once told me that you don't hide from God.”

“No.”

“Then how do you relate to Mary?”

“I do not necessarily relate to her as much as I am fascinated by her. That she was demon possessed suggests that she was vulnerable and open to such an attack. Lucifer seized her soul, yet she overcame it to become a saint in the eyes of the world.”

Will swallowed hard.

“I find it more likely that you relate to her, Will.” Hannibal said.

Will glanced up to meet Hannibal's intrigued expression.

“I don't believe in God.” Will said, “I'm no saint. How do you figure that?”

“You've sold your soul to a much different type of religion.”

“To you?”

“Without religion, what higher power are we to believe in than our own selves? And without the brazen confidence in our own higher power, what will we believe in except each other?”

“You think I don't know my own power?”

“You have power beyond belief.” Hannibal said, “It is accepting it that you find difficult. Don't you recall the slaying of the Dragon with trembling awe? You recall the blood between your fingers, and the adrenaline in your veins with sweet satisfaction, yet surreal disbelief.”

“It felt like a dream.”

“But you're awake now.”

“Yes.” Will murmured, turning his gaze back to Mary. “Wide awake.”

“If you don't believe in yourself, Will, you can always believe in me. I laid hold of my own power long ago.”

Will smiled, wryly.

“We become our own religion?”

“Strip away Biblical texts and prophecies, religion, as I said, is nothing more than a belief in a higher power. The concept itself is detached from specific iconography such as Christ and the saints. All religions are man-made, and such, a new one could be formed with each passing day. It is subjective to our own perceptions and beliefs of the world.”

“It's not so far-fetched.” Will said, “Believe in each other, and the rest of the world doesn't matter?”

“Seeing is believing. Faith is having trust that you will be guided to something greater than the human eye can see. Don't you ache to release your skeptical view of the world, and fall trustingly into someone else's reassurance?”

“Your reassurance?”

“I could hold you until you're not afraid any longer.”

“I'm not afraid.”

“Fear trails after you, like smoke to embers. You'll never live a day in your life in which you're not afraid.”

Will slicked his tongue across his lips as he considered Hannibal's words.

“You've never trusted anyone but yourself.” Hannibal said, his voice softening. “I want you to trust me, Will.”

“Everyone I've ever trusted has betrayed me.”

“Yet your betrayal is the one that first ripped the chasm between us.”

Will felt the singe of Hannibal's gaze on him, and turned his eyes toward the cutting blow of Hannibal's words.

“Betrayal is far behind us.” Will said, “I couldn't divorce myself from you now, even if I tried.”

“Partaking of my flesh does not make you farther from betrayal.” Hannibal said, “It simply makes you human, and in need of sympathy and pleasure like everyone else. I don't place my faith in sexual drives.”

“Some people consider intercourse the pinnacle of vulnerability and intimacy.”

“Intercourse is a part of life and survival, like food and shelter.” Hannibal said, “It comes secondary to the sort of intimacy and understanding that I'm in search of.”

“Then forget I ever touched you.” Will whispered, “My soul has recognized yours. We're forged together by blood and the taking of life.”

A smile ghosted across Hannibal's mouth.

“You forget regret?” He asked, “And look toward the future?”

“I only see one future.” Will said, “The one where we never say goodbye again.”

Hannibal's eyes misted, and a tremble rippled across his mouth.

“The bed you longed for, and the window by the sea both await us.” He said, “I suppose you'd like to get on with it.”

“I've never wanted anything more in life.” Will said.

Hannibal swept a hand toward the door behind them, and the wide, dangerous world that awaited their audacious touch.

“Shall we?”

Will ducked his head, a smile dragging at the corner of his mouth.

“After you.”

 

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank My Chemical Romance for their song "Demolition Lovers" which partially inspired me to write this fic. The song talks about driving through the desert with your lover, and has a lot of connotations about death. I thought about writing a sad ending where they get caught by the authorities and go out in a hail of bullets like the song describes, but realized I'm a pussy and would rather have a romantic/sappy/psuedo-religious ending where they fall in love and ride off into the sunset together. Anyway, s/o to MCR - without that song I wouldn't have come up with anything to write for this event :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](http://clairehales.tumblr.com//)!


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